Christmas is the Time to Say 'I Love You'
by Rainbow Fruit Loop
Summary: "When Dean had told Sam and Castiel that they were going to have a real Christmas, he had been one hundred percent serious. Christmas pudding, sherry, mistletoe; they were going to have it all. Okay, okay, so maybe the twelve-pack of Christmas crackers he had bought had been a bit too much." Christmassy fluff, as well as Dean comforting an upset Cas. One-shot. Destiel.


Author's Note: Hello, lovely readers! How is everyone doing on this wonderful almost-Christmas day? The festivity is strong where I am, haha.

So, not much to say about this fic, except it's a Christmas one-shot. *Cheers in the background* It takes place after season eight, but I've dismissed everything that's happened so far in season nine, because it didn't happen how I wanted. I always thought that Castiel would have been a lot more upset about losing his grace, so yeah. Also, turns out it's physically impossible for me to write something in this fandom without making someone cry. Sorry~

The title of this fic comes from that song 'Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You', originally written by Billy Squier.

I hope you all have a great Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate, and hopefully I'll see you all soon with another Destiel fic! (:

~Rainbow Fruit Loop xx

* * *

~_Christmas is the Time to Say 'I Love You'_~

It was barely past dawn when Dean woke up on Christmas morning. When he rolled over in his bed with an inelegant grunt, and forced his bleary eyes open to look at his alarm clock, he was annoyed when it told him it was only eight o'clock. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had voluntarily woken up before ten in the morning.

Letting a small sigh escape his lips, Dean leant back heavily against his pillows, and shut his eyes again. He was almost one hundred percent sure that neither Sam nor Castiel would be awake yet, and he sure as hell was not going to run into their bedrooms and wake them up. Sam would _never _let him live it down.

They had a proper Christmas tree this year, which Dean was glad for. He'd only paid forty bucks for it, so it wasn't the _best _quality tree out there, but it would do. It was green and tall and had a fair number of needles, and Castiel had been content with adorning it with the crappy little decorations Dean had picked up from a bargain store.

Now that the three of them were all living together in the Batcave, Dean didn't see why they couldn't have a _real_ Christmas, with the stupid little stockings and the colourful fairy lights and the mistletoe and the peppermint and the baubles. If anyone deserved a proper, family Christmas, it was them.

Dean knew that, in the past, Sam hadn't ever been too bothered about doing the whole Christmas thing, but now that they had somewhere to call home, it was different. Sam had been trying to hide his enthusiasm for the festive occasion, because he didn't want to admit that he had been wrong, but Dean had seen the way his face had lit up when he had watched Dean lug the surprisingly heavy tree inside.

Castiel… well, he didn't say too much these days. After losing his grace and falling from Heaven, he had become overwhelmingly introverted. He refused to let Dean help him - remaining silent and stoic whenever Dean instigated one of his frequent heart-to-hearts. There were nights when Dean heard Castiel sobbing quietly in his bedroom, and it hurt him more than anything that he couldn't go in and comfort the one man he loved more than anything else in the world.

Of course, he did have good days, where he was slightly more outgoing, and more willing to learn about life as a human. Dean enjoyed these days. He had already taught Castiel all about the Impala and how to look after her properly, as well as a few basic recipes that he might need one day. On one of these good days, Castiel had enjoyed decorating the Christmas tree, and he had chuckled politely at all of Dean's crap jokes, but sometimes, it just wasn't enough.

Castiel was emotionally drained and longing for home, and Dean wished against hope that Castiel would find home again in his warm, always-open arms. Since he had first realised what it truly meant to fall in love with someone, Dean hadn't denied what he felt for Castiel. There was something strong and passionate and terrifyingly _real _that drew them together - a profound bond, Castiel had once called it. But it was so much more than that, so much more than a simple bond. Dean didn't know quite what it was, but he loved Castiel more fiercely than he had ever loved a person before.

Dean sighed to himself, and rolled over in his achingly empty bed. He didn't think he could get up just yet without seeming overenthusiastic, but secretly, he was desperately looking forward to the day. Despite the fact that both Sam and Castiel would probably have been just fine to treat Christmas day like any other day, Dean was determined to make the occasion as special as he could. They all deserved a break from the angels and the demons and the monsters, and they would have fun, even if it killed them.

* * *

When his alarm clock finally flashed nine thirty, Dean decided that it would probably be acceptable to go and make himself a coffee without seeming too excited. When he padded down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, he passed by Castiel's room, and paused, wondering whether he should stick his head in, and see if his friend was awake.

Deciding that the worst that could happen was that he could give Castiel a bit of a fright, Dean popped his head around the door, making sure that there was a reassuring, friendly grin on his face.

"Oh, hey, Cas!" Dean greeted, when he noticed that Castiel was awake and reading in his bed. "I wasn't sure if you'd be awake or not. Merry Christmas!"

Castiel looked up from his book, and gave Dean a small, hesitant smile. Dean was pleased to see the expression on his friend's face - today was obviously one of his better days. "Merry Christmas, Dean."

"I was just going to get some coffee, do you want some?" Dean asked, cocking his head to the left slightly. "It's the peppermint one, and I know it's your favourite."

Castiel nodded in affirmation, and just as Dean was heading off to make two cups of coffee - maybe three, if Sam was awake - Castiel swung his legs over the side of the bed, and got up to follow.

"I can just bring it to you when I've finished making it." Dean suggested, watching as Castiel pulled his dressing gown off its hook, and wound it around his too-thin body. "You don't have to come, if you don't want to."

Castiel shook his head, and smiled again - uninhibited, this time. The smirk on his face made Dean want to sweep him up into a huge bear hug - it had been far too long since he had seen Castiel smile like that. "It's Christmas, Dean. I know you've probably been dying for Sam and I to wake up."

Dean chuckled under his breath, and headed off towards Sam's room, confident that Castiel would be following him. "Yeah, well, Sam and I haven't had many Christmases before. You can't blame a man for being a little enthusiastic."

Castiel remained quiet, but Dean could hear his gentle footsteps on the wooden floor behind him. His silence didn't bother Dean - he had never been the most forthcoming of people, even when he was an angel. And for Castiel to willingly exit his bedroom, without Dean's usual persuasion… well, Dean could tell that it was going to be a very good day indeed.

* * *

The Christmas tree hadn't quite died just yet, which Dean thought was particularly encouraging. Sure, it was looking a little tired, and the needles at the back were slightly brown, but the astonishingly bright red star on top was still standing tall - looking suspiciously proud for an inanimate object.

The three men were all crowded underneath said tree, mugs of Castiel's favourite peppermint coffee clutched in their hands. Sam - the spoilsport - had still been asleep when Dean had burst into his room, and his bed-head was looking absolutely ridiculous, but it was Christmas, and Dean was trying his very best not to be rude.

"I think I've got cramp." Sam complained, as Dean handed Castiel his presents. "Can't we do the whole gift thing up at the table instead of on the floor? We're not six, Dean."

Dean glared at his brother, and shoved his present at him. "Come on, Sammy, where's your Christmas spirit? You're supposed to be all enthusiastic about this, man. I know you've secretly been looking forward to today, don't deny it. So shut up and unwrap your gift."

Sam looked faintly amused, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Beside Dean, Castiel shifted uncomfortably; awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his dressing gown. Dean's eyes flicked over to him - worried, out of habit, mostly. "Are you all right, Cas? You don't want to sit up at the table, do you?"

Castiel shook his head, and kept his eyes downcast. "No, I'm fine here, it's just… I haven't got you or Sam anything. I'm sorry." He looked, for all the world, like he thought he had failed them both miserably, and it made Dean's heart clench painfully. Simply having Castiel with him was the best thing in the world - Dean didn't need anything else.

"Nah, don't worry about it, Cas." Sam said kindly, his eyes gentle. "I only bought Dean a gift to shut him up. You know how he gets."

Dean smiled at Castiel, and sent Sam a thankful look. "Yeah, Cas, don't sweat it." He desperately wanted to voice his previous thoughts, about Castiel's presence being more than enough, but he kept quiet - not wanting to scare Castiel with his bold affections.

"Thank you. I will make it up to you, I promise." Castiel said, his voice serious. "I… I don't think I've thanked you both for letting me stay here with you, and for making me feel like family."

"That's all right, Cas." Sam said, chuckling lightly under his breath. "Now, let's open these presents, and then I can go and stretch my legs, and hope the cramp goes away quickly."

"Your fault for having stupid gigantor legs." Dean muttered under his breath, secretly thankful that Sam had changed the subject. He did want Castiel to talk about his feelings, because he was sure that he would feel one hundred times better after he had poured his heart out, but Dean thought that maybe Castiel would be more comfortable talking to solely him. And apparently, Sam thought so too.

Dean was abruptly brought from his thoughts by Sam waving a silver present in front of his face. "Did you wrap this all by yourself, Dean?" he asked, his voice amused. "I really like the little ribbon thing."

Dean smirked. "Yes, I did wrap it all on my own, thank you very much. I thought that you'd like the ribbon, Sam, being a huge girl and all that."

Sam shook his head, and opened the gift, evidently taken aback when he saw the non-comedic gift inside - an expensive-looking leather journal. He picked it up and examined it carefully, before turning to Dean with a smile on his face. "This is surprisingly nice, Dean. Thank you."

Dean shrugged, embarrassed for reasons he didn't quite understand. He was becoming far too sentimental these days, it seemed. "Yeah, well, I thought maybe you start your own monster-hunting journal. Dad's one doesn't quite cut it any more."

Sam smiled at him again, and then nudged Cas with his elbow. "Hey, open yours from me."

Cas obeyed dutifully, and opened his gift; his slim fingers working nimbly against the overuse of cellotape holding his package together. When he finally managed to get it open, he pulled out a comfortable-looking grey shirt, and a gift card to a clothing store.

"You don't really have all that many clothes." Sam explained, watching as Cas stroked his fingers down the soft wool of the shirt. "But I didn't want to just get you the gift card. I hope the shirt fits - I'm pretty sure it will."

Dean nodded approvingly, already thinking about how great Castiel would look in a tight-fitting grey shirt. He was sure it would make Castiel's vivid blue eyes look even brighter - if that were at all possible. Damn, he'd have to get Castiel into that shirt as soon as possible. And then out of it just as quickly.

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel murmured, smiling up at Sam's slightly apprehensive face. "It's very thoughtful of you. I really like the shirt."

Sam grinned, obviously relieved that Cas appreciated his gift. "That's all right, Cas. I'm glad you like it. Okay, Dean, open your one now."

Dean ripped into the gift, not nearly as careful as Castiel had been. When he had all but shredded the festive red paper to pieces, he pulled out the flask, and regarded it with a lump in his throat.

"It's…" Dean trailed off, and ran his fingers down the cool metal. "It's just like Bobby's."

"Yeah. I know you don't really drink much any more, but I thought you might like it. I, uh, had it made exactly like Bobby's. I know that one meant a lot you, and I hope this one does too."

Dean was more touched than he would ever admit. He had often wished that they hadn't had to burn the old flask - it was the one thing that would always make him think of Bobby. Destroying it had somehow felt blasphemous, like they were breaking something sacred. But now, he had an exact replica, and it was a great feeling.

There was a hot, prickling sensation at the back of Dean's eyes, but he disguised it by leaning forward and wrapping Sam up in a very manly hug. "Thank you, Sammy. It's great." he murmured against his brother's shoulder. "I love it."

Sam chuckled, and Dean pulled away, flashing his brother a grateful smile, before he turned to Castiel. "Okay, you've got the last present. Open it, and then Sam can go and make us all breakfast."

Ignoring Sam's half-hearted protests, Castiel turned his attention to Dean's gift. He opened it quickly, and when he pulled the gift out of the shiny wrapping, he didn't say anything for the longest of moments.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Castiel study the photo frame. He had thought that it was a nice picture of the three of them, laughing and smiling like they didn't have a care in the world, and he didn't understand why Castiel wasn't saying anything.

"This is…" Castiel cleared his throat, obviously feeling self conscious under both Dean and Sam's careful stares. "This is really nice, Dean. Thank you." He turned the photo frame over in his hands, and traced a finger over the inscription at the bottom_. _"Family." He murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I like that."

Dean smiled at him, relief coursing through his veins. Truth be told, he had been slightly worried about what Castiel would think of the gift. He wasn't sure if it was too sentimental, and he didn't want to scare Castiel away by hinting at his feelings.

"That's all right, Cas. I hoped you'd like it. You really do mean a lot to us." Dean said quietly, rubbing his thumb across his chin. Of course, there was so much more that he wanted to say to Castiel, so much more than he hoped he conveyed through his quiet smiles and gentle eyes. He wanted to tell Castiel that he loved him more than he thought was possible - that Castiel had set his mundane world ablaze, colouring it pink and orange and red. But Dean kept his mouth shut, because he didn't want to lose the already fragile thing they shared.

Sam peered over Castiel's shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of the gift that had left Castiel at a loss for words. "Huh. I like it." he told Castiel, flashing him a grin. "You'll have to find somewhere nice to put it."

Castiel nodded in agreement, and smiled at the two brothers. "Thank you both for your very thoughtful gifts. I really appreciate them."

Sam beamed at him, and stood up; his joints protesting loudly at the movement. "That's all right, Cas. I'll go and make us some breakfast, and you and Dean can clear up all the wrapping paper."

This, of course, meant that Dean kicked all of the wrapping paper behind the tree, because it was Christmas, goddamnit, and no one did any cleaning on Christmas.

* * *

When Dean had told Sam and Castiel that they were going to have a real Christmas, he had been one hundred percent serious. Christmas pudding, sherry, mistletoe; they were going to have it all. Okay, so _maybe _the twelve-pack of Christmas crackers he had bought was a bit too much, but everyone had enjoyed them, so it didn't really matter.

Christmas dinner had been nice. Of course, most of the food had all been out of packets in order to minimise the effort that cooking so required, but Dean didn't see that as cheating. He didn't think that Castiel had ever tasted mashed potato before, so how would he possibly be able to tell the difference between 'whip-it-up-it-the-microwave mashed potato' and proper home-cooked mashed potato?

It was ten o'clock in the evening now, and Dean was feeling pretty damn proud of himself, because he had made their Christmas great. Everyone was so overstuffed with food that Dean was surprised they hadn't exploded, and yet there were _still _leftovers. Sam had consumed quite a lot of eggnog in between all of the Christmas-y snacks, and as a result his cheeks were all pink, and he was half-asleep on the sofa.

Castiel hadn't drunk any alcohol, and Dean was certainly not going to encourage it, despite the fact that everyone drank at Christmas. He knew what the human Castiel had turned into in one parallel timeline - a stoned, barely-lucid alcoholic - and he didn't want it happening to this Castiel - to _his _Castiel. But Dean knew that Castiel had still had a lot of fun, because he hadn't ever seen him smile so much.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." Sam yawned, stretching his arms out above his stupid, sticky-outy hair. "I'm beat."

Dean pulled his eyes away from where he had been watching Castiel run his finger around a bowl that had once contained half-melted chocolate, and then lift it to his lips. It had been driving him crazy, watching Castiel like lick his finger like that, so he was glad for the distraction.

"Okay, Sammy. You gotta make sure you have your twelve hours of beauty sleep, right?" Dean smirked at his brother, pleased with his little tease, but Sam just raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up, Dean." He quipped, before mouthing - very unsubtly, Dean noticed - _"Talk to Cas". _And then he made some ridiculous face with his lips all puckered up, and Dean could feel the tips of his ears turning a very dark red.

"Goodnight, Sam." Castiel said, looking up from the bowl he had nearly licked clean. "Thank you for a great day."

Sam immediately stopped making faces at Dean, and smiled, before stifling another yawn. "That's all right, Cas. Merry Christmas, guys."

"Merry Christmas." Dean returned, feeling a stab of affection for his pain-in-the-ass brother. "See you tomorrow."

After Sam had disappeared down the hallway, Dean turned to Castiel, who had, thankfully, put down his bowl. He had just opened his mouth, ready to start a light-hearted conversation, when Castiel spoke up.

"Dean." Castiel started, looking up at him, his big blue eyes all soft and vulnerable. He had a special way of making Dean's heart melt - he could turn Dean to goo with one flash of his absurdly beautiful eyes. "I'm… sorry."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed, and he cast Castiel a confused look. "You're sorry? For what?" he asked, his face concerned. What did Castiel have to be sorry for?

"I'm sorry for shutting you out when you tried to talk to me all those times, and for not letting you help me when things were especially tough. I know you said you were always there if I wanted to talk, and I might have left it too late, but…" Cas trailed off helplessly, and Dean's heart clenched painfully in his chest. Cas was opening up to him. _Finally._

"No, Cas, it's never too late." Dean murmured quietly, shifting slightly closer to Castiel on the sofa, arranging the blanket over the two of them to keep them warm. "What's on your mind?"

"It's just all too much sometimes." Castiel murmured, and then suddenly, there were tears trailing down his face, and he was making little gasping noises that made Dean's heart tear itself to pieces.

Dean was slightly startled by the unexpected tears, and he instinctively did the only thing he thought he could do to make things better - he pulled Castiel into a warm, soothing hug, and rubbed his back until he calmed down.

"I'm sorry, I'm ruining Christmas for you by crying." Castiel choked out, his forehead pressed against Dean's shoulder. Dean could barely hear what he was saying, and so he ducked his head down, his ear brushing against Castiel's cheek. "I'm sorry for spoiling everything."

Dean frowned to himself, and continued rubbing his fingers up and down Castiel's spine - hoping that the touch was of some comfort. "Shh, Cas." he murmured, over and over again. "Shh. You're not ruining anything. You've never ruined anything."

After what felt like a lifetime, Castiel's sobs subsided, and Dean pulled away from him, tilting Castiel's chin up to look him in the eye. Gently, he rubbed his thumb across Castiel's cheek, gathering up the last of the tears.

"Better?" he asked softly, his eyes full of concern. He had never seen Castiel cry before, and though he was pleased that Castiel wanted to open up to him, he just wished that it didn't hurt so much.

Castiel nodded, but didn't say anything, and so Dean leant back against the sofa, giving him some space. There was silence for a few minutes, and it made Dean's stomach twist in on itself painfully. Had he not been platonic enough in his attempts to comfort Castiel? Castiel had always been one for disregarding personal space, but maybe Dean had gone too far this time. Maybe he was making Castiel feel uncomfortable.

It was hard, though, seeing him like this, and yet not being able to touch him in the way he so desired. Dean had been aware of his feelings for Castiel for two years, and he had never done anything about them - sure that Castiel would reject him. He wanted, more than anything, to just _kiss _the man in front of him, but Castiel's feelings came first. If he needed to talk, then Dean needed to listen.

"What, uh, what made you want to talk about this now?" Dean asked softly, watching as Castiel leaned forwards and pulled a tissue from the box on the table. He blew his nose, and dabbed at his eyes, and Dean's heart hurt more than he had ever thought it would.

"It's just…" Castiel faltered, and Dean nudged him lightly in the ribs, encouraging him to keep going. "We all had such a great day together today, and I realised just how much you had done for me over the past few months. And then I thought that, if I continued to act the way I was before, then maybe you would get fed up of me, and… maybe I would lose you."

Dean shook his head, surprised. How could Castiel even _think _that he would give up on him? "Hey, don't worry about it, Cas. I know it's been hard for you, you know, losing your grace and everything. I'm just glad that you're safe here with us."

But that was obviously the wrong thing to say, because Castiel's eyes filled up with tears again; his cobalt eyes all shiny and bright under the dim yellow lights.

"Dean… I don't want to ever lose you." Castiel murmured, his voice forlorn.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed, and he resisted the urge to cuddle Castiel again. "Cas, what's this about? You know that you'll never lose me. You're my best friend." _You're so much more than that. _"Please don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

"…I know." Castiel said after a few seconds. "But sometimes I worry that I care about you more than you care about me, and that if I screw everything up, it'll be easy for you to leave me."

In that moment, Dean wanted to cry too. How could Castiel not _see _just how much Dean cared for him? He had thought it was obvious, in the quiet touches and the warm smiles and the tender talks. Even before Castiel had become human, there was something uniquely strong that tied them together, and it _hurt _that Castiel had forgotten about it all.

"I would _never _leave you, Cas." Dean said, a little vehemently. "Why can't you see that? And how can you say that you care for me more than I care for you? Have you forgotten everything we've been through, everything I've sacrificed for you? I would have died for you when you were an angel, Cas, and _nothing_ has changed."

The words 'I love you' were right on the tip of Dean's tongue, but he choked them down. He wasn't sure how Castiel would react - and if he would even understand the depth of Dean's feelings. He loved Castiel in a friendly way, of course, but there was something far more complex about his feelings, and Dean wasn't sure that Castiel would ever understand.

"You would die for me now?" Castiel asked quietly, his face scrunching up into a frankly adorable confused expression. "Even though I'm not an angel anymore? Even though I'm not of any use - a liability? I thought… maybe you'd be disappointed, because I'm not special anymore."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Cas!" Dean exploded, throwing his hands up in the air, all of the emotions he had so carefully suppressed flooding out of him in a frustrated mess. "Will you just fucking listen to what I'm saying? You _are _special, so quit thinking you're not!"

And Dean knew then that whatever he was going to end up saying, it was going to be far too much. But he couldn't keep it all inside, not now. Castiel couldn't just sit there thinking that he wasn't worth anything. He had to know that he was loved, even if it ended up tearing Dean to pieces.

Castiel shrunk back on the sofa at Dean's exasperated words, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm… sorry."

Dean shook his head, and tried his best to calm his temper. "…No, don't be. I'm sorry for yelling, but you just need to know that I really don't give a fuck if you're an angel or not, okay? I just want you to be happy. You mean more to me than you'll ever know, and I don't want you thinking that you're worthless, because you're not. You're everything to me."

Castiel didn't say anything for the longest of seconds, and Dean could feel his face turning pink. He'd all but told Castiel that he was in love with him, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to deny it, if he was asked.

Dean was just about to say something to redeem himself, when Castiel did something that Dean never thought he would - he leaned forward, eyes slipping closed, and kissed him. An actual, proper _kiss._

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Dean froze. There was nothing more wonderful than the feeling of Castiel's lips, soft and warm on his, but he couldn't get his body to move. He had thought about kissing Castiel far too much, had wondered what he tasted like far too often, and now he knew. Kissing Castiel was perfect, and so much more than Dean had expected.

Just as Dean was about to kiss him back, passionate and so full of love that it hurt, Castiel pulled away, obviously embarrassed by Dean's lack of response. Dean wanted to tell him how perfect he looked, his hair all messy, his lips all pink and delectably full, his eyes all bright, but he didn't.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I… seem to have mistaken what you meant. I thought… well, it doesn't matter what I thought. I'm sorry, it won't ever happen again." Castiel murmured, keeping his eyes down. He made a move to get up from the sofa, but Dean threw a hand out across his chest, keeping him in place.

"No." Dean finally managed to get out, his voice firm. "No, Castiel. Don't go. Stay here."

Castiel looked at him with questioning eyes, his cheeks still flushed with the mortification of what he presumed was rejection. But, _God, _it wasn't rejection. This was everything that Dean ever wanted, and he was sure as hell not going to let it go.

"Dean…?"

"Kiss me again." Dean whispered, his fingers making their way around Castiel's wrist, holding him tightly. He could feel Castiel's pulse beating underneath his skin, and it was racing. "Please."

Castiel smiled slowly, the confused expression slipping from his face, and he leant forwards again, pressing his lips against Dean's. Dean instantly melted into the touch, moving his fingers from Castiel's wrist to wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, close, close until there was no more space between them. Castiel had his arms wrapped loosely around Dean's neck, and Dean could feel his deft fingers running through his hair.

It was dangerously pleasant feeling, having Castiel stroke through his hair, his fingers long and warm and calloused. Dean had never really been one for stroking and touching, preferring to go straight to the sex, but this with Castiel? It was nice. Very nice. It made him feel loved, properly loved, like he was cared for and cherished. He hoped Castiel felt the same way, because he_ needed _to realise just how wonderful he was.

Castiel's lips were soft, and they felt like velvet against Dean's own. He was a good kisser, Dean found, which was surprising, because he hadn't thought that Castiel had ever had much practise. But his tongue was warm and demanding and investigative as it explored Dean's mouth, and the taste of Castiel on his lips made Dean smile.

It was a perfect second first kiss.

Everything felt… right. Being so close to Castiel, in every sense of the word, just felt _right_. Dean had always known that there was something that tied them together, something strong and unwavering and brave, but he didn't know what to call it. He'd never really believed in the red string of fate, though perhaps, in this case, it really was true. So many things had tried to keep the two apart, but they had always made it back together - had always made it back home.

Far too soon, Castiel pulled away from Dean, his breathing heavy, his face pink. He looked adorably dishevelled, and Dean reached out and ran a hand through his dark hair, smirking when it stuck up at amusing angles.

"That was… nice." Castiel murmured, smiling widely at Dean, completely uninhibited. "I think we should definitely do that again sometime."

Dean smiled back, and looped his fingers through Castiel's. "Hm, you think?"

Castiel nodded, and settled back against Dean's chest, fingers still entwined. He pulled the blanket up from where it had fallen to the floor, and wrapped both himself and Dean in it, his eyes slipping closed.

"Yes, I do."

Dean smiled again, and glanced out of the window, slightly surprised to notice that it was snowing. There were little flakes whirling past the window, all light and free and happy, before they settled on the ground; a white, wintery blanket. It was a beautiful night; an amazing end to one hell of a Christmas.

"Hey, Cas. Merry Christmas." Dean whispered, pressing a quick kiss to Castiel's temple.

Castiel twisted his head around and gazed up at Dean, his eyes playful. "Merry Christmas, Dean."


End file.
